unnecessary

after long hours of travel from my aklan hometown, i was already planning the very first thing i'll do when i arrive in manila yesterday -- play ragnarok.

but i never imagined i would be washing off blood from my favorite pants and shirt instead.

it all started when i boarded the jeep to anonas after getting off the batangas bus at kamias, cubao. it's already late in the evening, the jeep filled up slowly. i was seated at the middle portion on the left side -- the side facing the sidewalk. a man sat at the jeep's entance, beside me, reeking of alcohol. i can tell, though, that he is not drunk -- his movements were still smooth and his eyes still alert.

the commotion started when two girls boarded the jeep. the first one to board the jeep suddenly blurted, "mama, ang bastos nyo! nanghihipo ka!" (you pervert! you groped me!) her girl companion joined her in accusing the man of touching her friend's butt.

the man didn't react. he just kept his head down, staring at his hands. the two girls got off the jeep, but not before giving the man an angry poke in the head.

the man appeared to be surprised, and started muttering to himself about not doing anything at all. the two girls boarded the next jeep, telling the driver about the man who allegedly groped her.

the driver of the said jeep got off and approached the man beside me. "lasing ka ba? bakit mo hinipuan yung ale?" (are you drunk? why did you grope that lady?). the man strongly denied the accusations, explaining in an angry tone that he was merely reaching for his wallet when the lady boarded the jeep and accidentally brushed his hand on her butt.

the driver backed off, and started walking back to his jeep, with a parting shot, "huwag kang mambabastos dito... kundi mabubugbog ka." (don't fool around here... or you'll get beaten up.)

it should have ended there.

but the man beside me, obviously having a poor judgement of his environment -- maybe it's the alcohol, or his need to prove his manliness -- retorted something that ultimately spelled his doom: "sige, bugbugin mo ako kung kaya mo!" (go ahead, beat me up if you can!)

the driver doubled back to face the man, "kaya ko! bumaba ka dyan!" (i can! get down here!)

the man beside me was brave. he may have reasons to be: he is big, muscular, and has a build that reminded me of the stevedores and hard-laborers in construction sites. as the scrawny driver walked back to him, he had his fists clenched and arms tensed up to fight, while continuosly muttering "tangina mo... sige... tangina mo..."

but he failed to see something from the very start -- the scrawny driver was not alone. "mama, tama na yan..." (that's enough...) i tried whispering to him as i watched a crowd of men closing in on our jeep. these are not just spectators. we are in a jeepney terminal, and drivers do stick for their comrades.

it's too late.

i saw the first blow coming from the window behind us, hitting the man squarely at the back of his head. then another, and soon fists and kicks rained on him from the window behind us and from the entrance of the jeep. as the man gets pushed back and squeezed towards me, i shielded myself with my backpack from the stray blows. it's already a "kuyog" (swarm), and the man can neither flee, nor fight effectively -- he's trapped inside the jeep with us.

our quick-thinking driver roared his jeepney to get away from the mob. as we sped away, i saw that the man was still fine. punches and kicks are hardly fatal, especially if there's very little room to deliver a hard blow.

we thought it was over, and i even had the calmness to ask the man if he's okay. several passengers got off, and some tried to joke about the whole thing.

but our driver was still tense as he frantically zoomed at every opening in the traffic and every green light.

in a blur of motion, i realized why.

as we slowed down at an intersection, a man from the jeep following us jumped out and rushed at the man beside me -- steel pipe at his right hand and a foot-long icepick on the other.

the attacker, a very small man, was amazingly swift. in a blink he was upon the man beside me, alternately swinging his pipe and stabbing with his icepick. the man barely had the time to defend himself, taking the blows in his hands, arms, and head.

the man finally was able to kick the attacker away from him, and i pulled him towards the middle part of the jeep. "takbo na, manong!" i shouted at our driver. as our jeep lurched forward, for a horrific moment i thought the attacker would cling on. but he jumped off, and ran back to the pursuing jeep.

our driver managed to run the next red light, leaving the pursuing jeep behind. the man was alreadly drenched in his own blood. the passengers were shouting for our driver to bring him to the nearest hospital. some were suggesting the police station.

the wounds were not fatal, but he was bleeding like hell, his face a grotesque mass of blood oozing from the deep, long cut across his forehead. the man insisted that he get off at next intersection, where most of us got off as well. he took off his shirt and wrapped it on his head, and ran away.

tough guy.

i walked home with the sickening squishy feeling at my feet. only then did i realize how much blood i had on my feet, hands, and clothes. the stench of dried blood was nauseating. eeew!

tsk! it's amazing how quickly someone could end up dead, and another one a criminal.

still, thinking about the whole event, maybe the man was egging to be punished. i can't speak for the other people present at that time, but he was certainly the kind that invites trouble. an apology, even if he indeed did not grope the lady, would have saved everyone a lot of trouble.

i don't mind fighting "mano-mano" (hand-to-hand) and unarmed brawls, but it's an entirely different thing when deadly weapons are involved. these are the men i fear the most -- scrawny-looking men that carry the longest knives, ready to kill, and an entire mob to back them up.

sigh!

i missed manila, but i hope i won't run across something like last night again.

but what's this? amatsu and kunlun soon on pRO? wheee! *smile smile smile*

it's nice to be back. ^_^

HVD stuffs

Some time ago, my friend and I had a very brief discussion about this question: whom would you choose, (1) someone you love, or (2) someone who loves you? Last week, a tv talkshow had this exact question as its topic. The panel of debaters from both sides all have interesting and sound insights, but at the end the polls show more votes for the latter option.

The question assumes a clinical environment that eliminates the gray areas, as well as the "ideal scenario": choosing someone you love and loves you at the same time. Taking away this ideal scenario, I would have also chosen the second option. Some say it's a selfish choice, but I believe learning how to love is easier and more realistic than learning how to be a martyr or learning the pain of a broken heart.

I wish we have more data explaining why there are fewer Filipinos saying "they are happy" with their love lives compared to two years ago. I wish I could find more explanations for the growing discontentment with love life among women. Have economic problems dampened personal feelings of satisfaction with love life? Is this also why Lovapalooza 2 reached only up to 1,500 couples, failing to break the 5,300 record last year (INQ7 news)?

Anyway, enough reality.

Congratulations to my pal on her wedding -- in International Ragnarok Online (iRO). Her iRO character Ireko married her real-life boyfriend's character, *Maximo Swinne*. They are one of the two couples chosen from each server to be wed by the GM Team. Their love story and wedding photos will be posted soon at iro.ragnarokonline.com. *Awww, so sweet* I look forward to the real thing, dudes! *wink wink!*

Happy Valentine's Day!
- my fanart of Nayomi-chan's rogue (Lorne) and my monk (Rajah).

someday

let me just note this date and time: february 8, tuesday, 3 pm. this is the date and time that mama, my grandmother, passed away.

i haven't much fond memories of her to speak of, but no doubt she has taught me some of the best and worst things in people.

in my elementary years, i remember trying my best to live up to the brand "apo ng superbisor (grandson of the supervisor)", watching my every step as i move around our little provincial town under the watchful eyes of people who are quick to pounce on other people's mistakes and shortcomings.

we grew up observing traditions under her strict guidance. for one, i owe her my habit of hearing mass on sundays, as failure to do so back then means having a taste of her twenty lashes using a single strand of walis-tingting (uhm, coconut broom-stick?).

she may not have the most pleasant of methods, but we never doubted her good intentions. i wish i could say more. someday, maybe. i will miss her.

addiction update: RO

i got the Ragnarok Online bug, again.



my resolve to wean out of this game was utterly destroyed when Gravity installed its biggest patch yet, Juno, in pRO last december. a week ago, i had my first 2-2 character -- the monk.



did i say "first"? ack, please strike that out. i promised my friend (Rubs, hear this!) that this monk will be my last, and the one which i will see through the rest of ragnarok gameplay (to level 99, rebirth, and 3rd job -- and whatever else is due to pRO).



i thought this would be just one of my usual fad addictions, just as i had with other games. but it somehow stayed longer and seeped deeper than i expected: it influenced my drawings, i have its manwah and guidebooks for collection, and the only thing stopping me from joining its cosplays is lack of time (and guts, but hey it's the first time i serously considered cosplaying).



*sigh* at least, there's a concrete end to this addiction. the only question is when it will come.



ROk on!

open door

i've been standing and staring at the closed door for some time now. i've never really understood what's stopping me from walking through it. maybe it's the fear of the unknown, of all those “what ifs”, or my stubborn tendency to hold on to a long-lost dream. all i know is that once i step in, there will be no turning back.



several times i reached out and tried the knob. it's always been left unlocked, it's just there waiting for me to decide...



is indecisiveness a weakness? isn't it a decision in itself?



my everyday life in social survey research has trained me to treat responses such as "undecided", "don't know", "can't say", or "don't know enough to have a choice" with equal importantance as the "yes" or "no" answers.



is it a sign of immaturity?



i've known many who have set sails to unchartered seas at the first signs of good weather. while some have ended sailing blissfully in never-ending journeys under raging storms and cerulean skies, i must have grown up surrounded with tales of horrible shipwrecks and broken lives. i need only to look at my own family to attest to these sad stories. i must have heard too many secrets, spoken amid tears and regrets, that speak of lost dreams...



all because they once made a wrong decision.



i know life is all a gamble -- anywhere and anytime the probability of sinking is just the same -- but would i be a lesser captain if i stayed docked until my ship is truly seaworthy, and dream of a miracle that promises endless cerulean skies?



i am far from being seaworthy, and i'm a hopeless dreamer.



anyway, it doesn't matter anymore. maybe there’s really no more reason to stay standing and staring at the same door...

unusual

our major annual public symposium went smoothly yesterday. my boss is out of the office. there are a lot of things to do, but i feel unusually relaxed and easy-going today. tired, but relaxed.

maybe it's the new pair of shoes i'm wearing. amazingly bouncy, but still a bit rigid and strained my feet after walking three blocks from our house to the office (my bike's rear wheel got punctured two days ago -- the machine shop somewhere near our house are so sloppy with their scrap wires scattered on the roadside).

it must be the exercise, and i'm getting sleepy.

i slept at 3:30 this morning. two days ago i had a ym chat with a good friend. it's one of our rare times when we catch each other online. our conversations never fail to take me to the extremes -- my spirit is lifted to stellar heights, and at the same time gets buried six feet under a thousand times.

by the time we said our goodnights, i'm always left with a choice to either hold on for as long as i can to stay beaming and flying up there in the clouds, or quietly settle down to the grim task of digging up my decayed, regret-festered, coward and sorry self.

either way, i will be sleepless. either way, eventually, somehow i'll be back to where i am, always looking forward to our next conversation.

ah.

two of my officemates recently bought their digital cameras -- one a 4 megapixel canon, and the other a 5 megapixel sony. i feel so obsolete now with my 2 megapixel nikon. /heh

looking at the first batch of photos and random shots they shared on the LAN, it feels strange. i guess i'm just not used to seeing myself through other people's lenses.

ah. sleepiness is gone. back to digging...

a bread affair

i had wheat bread and cream cheese spread this morning. with hot coffee at hand, i started my usual morning feeding ritual by smothering two slices with spread on one side each, slap them together, fold it to make a thick, rolled bundle, dunk it in coffee, tap it a few times to avoid dripping coffee all over the place, and devour the bundle in two bites. yum! if i have time i usually repeat the process twice or thrice, or more until i get stuffed or when the clock strikes 8:30am, whichever comes first.

i remember growing up watching my batangeuño father rip open a pandesal with a fork, stuff it with whatever's on the dining table (egg, fish, mango, peanut butter, etc) and do the whole coffee-dunking process. almost everyone in his clan does that, and so the habit was eventually picked up by all of us in the family.

i had my first experience of being ridiculed for my bread-eating habit in my freshman days at the university dormitory. my new visayan friends couldn't stop laughing at how i would dunk almost all kinds of bread in coffee, milk, or juice before popping them in my mouth. i guess oreo's milk-dipping commercial doesn't have much airtime back then.

when my girlfriend introduced me to hazelnut-chocolate spread some years ago, i got addicted to it but treated it like any other spread and ate bread with it like the way i do. that was until a friend showed me how to really enjoy it: spread a generous coat on one side of the sliced bread, balance it on your fingertips, and let the spread stick to the roof of your mouth when you bite into it. the sensation is somewhat heightened when you wash it down with coffee.

i just found hazelnut-milk spread and some bread in the office fridge. i'd like to try that one-slice-one-sided-spread approach, but my fingers can't balance so well -- and i believe that a bread will fall with the spread-side always facing down. ^_^

unhealthy

i've been leading a very unhealthy lifestyle lately.



while i didn't spend the last days of 2004 on daily drinking sprees -- which is normal amid the year-end festivities in my home province -- i find myself ingesting beer almost everyday since i got back in manila. before anyone starts thinking that i'm alcoholic, *shudder* let me at least try to identify some factors to my increased beer consumption:



lately, there are a lot of things to talk about after office. in the three years of living together with four of my co-workers, i notice that work-related affairs usually don't get carried back to the house -- we don't talk about work as soon as we settle down and watch tv or whatever. if we do talk about work after work, it's usually big deal enough to be beer-worthy. aside from the usual stress and tension, this year will be especially toxic for us at the station.



last year's leftovers. the supply is there, the company is there, and as mentioned, lots of things to talk about.



our friendly neighbor manang pao-pao's sari-sari store and eatery. lowest retail price for beer in town. err, i guess supply will never be a problem, especially if access to it is just a few meters away. this place also serve great typical filipino "turu-turo" ("point-point", as in to choose your food by pointing) dishes, barbeque and isaw, an array of "silog" menus (variants of fried dishes paired with fried rice and fried egg) and pares (beef stew) -- not exactly the healthiest, but still great for heavy meals and "pulutan" (appetizers that go well with alcoholic drinks).



the wonders of lynn. lol just kidding. "i hate you, tet-cheese!" mwahahaha!!



that's about it. not the best of excuses, but i try to re-assure myself that i'm (still?) not the one to drink beer for no reason at all. it's just that beer tastes so good when the weather's too cold, or too hot, or when i need to stay awake beyond my insomnia (no kidding. with the right dose, it works like coffee for me), when i need to concentrate, when i have fever, when i have cold sores... *okay enough now*



did i mention beer can keep me awake?



i guess i should start worrying about my sleeping habits. my typical bedtime is 1am. with conscious effort, i'd be lucky to be sleeping at 11pm. with beer, i'd still be restlessly up and awake at 3am (my ragnarok online acolyte is now at level 66/48 because of that). in all cases, my waking time is constant at 6:30am (error margin of plus/minus 10 minutes).



*starts computing*



okay, i'm worried now.

a bite of old memories

"isaw" (ee-saw) - a popular streetfood in the philippines; grilled chicken or pork intestines served in bamboo skewers. good source of uric acid and cholesterol, but at least you die happy and satisfied. be conscious, though, of sanitation and remember to eat only in stalls that serve the sauces in separate, disposable cups; beware of those who still practice "centralized sauce dipping" or something like that -- hepatitis and other diseases are not fun to share. finally, love the environment -- dispose of your sticks and cups properly.



i believe education is the "great equalizer" -- one that can bridge the gap between the rich and the poor. there's one other thing that comes close to this function: isaw at up campus-diliman.



i can think of two landmarks in that campus that hold the record of having the great-tasting isaw in town -- mang larry's near kalayaan residence hall, and the one at ilang-ilang.



the former has been around for a longer time. i remember doing an undergrad term paper on mang larry himself, his family, and his isaw livelihood when i was a freshman (it's that long ago, i tell you). his relatively high standards for quality ingredients and cleanliness instantly made me his fan. throughout my college years, his humble pedicab stall was my refuge when kalayaan hall -- and later molave hall -- serve terrible grub. it's where i bring my off-campus friends everytime they visit ("you haven't been to up campus if you haven't tasted mang larry's isaw!"). in the brief time that i had a girlfriend, back then, the isawan was one of our favorite dating places: romantic evenings under the stars, munching on lip-smackin' good isaw while watching people, traffic, and the show on mang larry's portable tv (tipid pa!).



yesterday, tekpipol had a rare opportunity to use a van for free (thanks ar!), so off to up campus we went. we tried the one at ilang-ilang first, but at 7pm, they were already sold out. no surprise there -- this one boasts of sauce soooo good you can drink it.



and so we ended up at mang larry's. it's been years since my last isaw pig-out session, but i held back on the urge and settled for only ten sticks (i average 40 sticks back in my college days).



except for the bigger mobile stall and more staffs systematically taking orders and cooking, mang larry's isawan hasn't changed at all. the typical human mix is still there: young and old *uboubo*, students from different schools (easily spotted by their uniforms), work drones fresh out of the offices, people and families from nearby communities as well as those arriving in cars and vans.



rodic's was our next stop for some tapsilog *yum!*. we could've proceeded to sara's to complete the nostalgic food trip with booze, but work awaits the next day.



our inuman at sara's can wait. i'm sure these landmarks will be around for a long, long time. ^_^

desecrated

i don't know what's the truth behind this incident, but it defiled the celebration of ati-atihan.



and i guess i just have to be thankful that my mother wasn't there at the celebration when the shootout happened. sigh...



i am one of the many aklanons who hold ati-atihan with special fondness and significance. i hope that one of these days i could share my memories of this wonderful event. but for now, i pray for the safety of those caught in the crossfire, and hope that nothing like this ever happen again.

do over

i'm off to a not-so-good start with my blogging life this year.



in a rare, lull moment at the office yesterday -- which is usually after we had lunch -- inspiration struck. so i went online, logged on to blogger, and started hammering down those ever elusive thoughts, angst, and what-nots. i didn't even bother typing it first on notepad, given we have a very unreliable internet connection at the office.



and so about eight paragraphs later, i decided to hit the "publish post" button and viola! the connection broke and gone are all those ever elusive thoughts, angst, and what-nots. sigh! it could have very well been a palanca award-winning piece. haha!



ah! it's just like how life could sometimes disconnect on you. one moment your life is going smoothly, then suddenly everything starts falling apart. next thing you know, you're on you knees trying to put the shattered pieces back together again, fooling yourself into believing you even could. and after some time, it dawns on you that you can never put the pieces back together, and surrender to the fact that you have no choice but to accept what's left, or do over, and move on.



but what the heck... moving on. ^_^



last christmas and new year were especially important for our family, as this could very well be Mama's (my grandmother) last. two months ago, she suffered her worst diabetic/stroke attack since she got paralyzed and lost speech control eight years ago. when i got home last december 24, she is already blind, weak, and thin. she refused to eat and be brought back to the hospital anymore.



and so i spent my vacation at home, talking to Mama everytime she's awake, watching her eyes struggling to follow the sound of my voice as i check her IV drip. sometimes i would turn up the TV so she could listen to the news.



and then a tsunami struck east asia.



it was an eerie feeling: listening to the news spew out the number of casualties, watching the many lives lost in an instant, while sitting beside one who has peacefully resigned to her destiny.



life is no candle in the wind. it is strong and it will fight no matter what -- for as long as eight years, or as short as eight seconds.